


A Goal of Yet Another Kind

by dicklomatticimmunity



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicklomatticimmunity/pseuds/dicklomatticimmunity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of 'A Goal of a Different Kind'. Bastian decides to turn in early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bastian leaned back into the couch as he looked around him. Of all the bars in hotels that he'd been in, this was by far one of the most impressive. Dance music blared over the speakers off to the right, where lights painted the dance floor in alternating red-blue-greens. Most of the team was out there dancing or standing off to the side around one of the tables. The section he was in was quieter. Here, people sat on couches, at tables, and at the actual bar, and the lighting was brighter compared to the multicolored tones of the rest of the floor. The place was busy; he saw locals grab drinks from the bar and sit down, chatting amiably amongst friends. Lots of people were dancing, but the floor wasn't crammed like he'd seen in other places. There was room to move around if you wanted to, but still enough energy to keep a party going. 

He looked down at his half-empty beer bottle. The contents swirled as he shifted the bottle this way and that, hypnotic in its own way. He projected his dissatisfaction into that bottle, because he couldn't look like this right now, not in the hotel's bar, where the rest of the team would sense his moroseness and attempt to pull him into a ridiculous dance to the next hip-hop tune that the deejay put on. He told himself that he needed to be there for the team, that he was the captain – albeit off the field at the moment, because he was still injured – but no amount of self-encouragement could convince him to fulfill his captainly duties.

Not that they needed him at the moment. They'd just won in the friendly they'd played, and everyone was celebrating. He searched the crowd for his teammates. Of those that he saw, most of them were dancing, their red-and-black jerseys reflecting various other colors under the dance floor's lights. Some chugged away at mugs full of beer, sitting contently at tables off to the side, chatting with each other. The rest took the wiser course of action and drank water while frequently pointing and laughing at their less sober friends. All of them deserved it, because they'd worked for the result they'd achieved. He hadn't; he'd been on the sidelines.

Still, he should be up and about congratulating them instead of sitting here, lounging on the couch like the worst kind of party pooper.

Maybe he was just tired.

He finished the rest of his beer in one gulp. The ale was too bitter for his liking, and nothing like what he enjoyed at home, but he savored it as best he could, burning unpleasantly the entire way down. He got up and started looking around, leaving the empty bottle on the table behind him as he tried to find someone he could reasonably hope would chaperone the rest of the team in his absence.

His first choice would have been Manuel, but the goalkeeper was nowhere in sight, which didn't surprise him; the only person who had seemed less enthusiastic about being here tonight was Manuel. Bastian suspected that he'd retired to their bedroom, presumably to brood over the goal he'd let in. Manuel took it hard when an opponent scored against him – something probably borne out of the fact that he hardly let in any goals _ever_ – and no matter how much Bastian tried to tell him that one goal wasn't a big deal, Manuel was always deeply unhappy when it happened, and there was very little that could assuage the goalkeeper's guilt after a match.

Maybe he could do some good in comforting Manuel tonight; at least then, his night would be productive.

Bastian's next choice would have been Per, Philipp, or Miro – the three people he relied on most – but none of them were here. Sadness settled into him as he recognized their absence, their retirement. Philipp especially had always been there for him – still was, at least in Munich – but on the national level, it was just him now. He was the captain, not Philipp. Per and Miro had been outstanding, reliable people, and neither of them were here, either. For that matter, none of them were probably in the country, say nothing about being in this bar, at this hotel.

Bastian was drawing a blank on options. He slowly made his way towards the dance floor, skirting its edge. The bass beat of the music thrummed in the floorboards beneath his feet, but he didn't dance, didn't even tap his foot in rhythm with it. He kept searching, scanning the crowd for people in red-and-black jerseys or white jackets with the team logo on it.

His gaze finally fell on Mario Götze. The man who had given the team its fourth star was leaning back against the bar and looking at Marco, who was seated on a neighboring barstool. Marco laughed, a full-body chuckle that made Marco's head tilt back, and Mario grinned before taking another sip from his mug full of beer.

He had no idea why Mario seemed like a good choice, but he meandered his way over to the pair. He stopped when he stood next to Mario, and put a hand on his shoulder.

Mario turned his head to look at him.

"Hey, Basti," he said, his voice not even the slightest bit slurred. Was Mario still sober? He thought he'd seen Mario here since the start of the night. Interesting.

"I'm heading to sleep," Bastian said. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room."

"Alright," Mario said. He was still grinning as he lifted his mug. "Night, captain."

"See you later," Marco said, raising his beer bottle in a salute.

Bastian nodded and left the bar. Several other teammates wished him goodnight on his way out, but he didn't stop to chat. He made his way through the lobby, waving to the desk clerk on duty as he did so, and headed straight for the elevator. He pushed the UP button and waited.

The elevator arrived with a gentle _bing_. Bastian stepped inside and pushed the button for his floor. He arrived a moment later, and he stepped out, taking a left down the lightly carpeted hallway towards his room.

Bastian started feeling around his pockets for the thin plastic card that would get him into his room. He didn't find it until he had almost reached the end of the hallway, which was just as well; the room he was sharing with Manuel was the last one on the right. He yawned as he slid the keycard into the door's reader, and hoped the thing actually worked on the first try.

Miraculously, it did. The door buzzed, and the indicator blinked green. Bastian opened the door and stepped into the room. There were no lights on, which surprised him; Manuel must have turned in early. As he closed the door behind him, he made an effort to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb Manuel –

and then he heard a muffled moan from the room beyond. Bastian held his breath.

"Nein, Manu," came a low, lust-colored voice – Thomas'? – between what sounded like heavy breaths. "I want to hear you. Scream for me, Manu."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long >.>

The sound that Bastian heard could only be described as an aroused, broken moan. Suddenly, his pants were one size too small.

And of course, he should have fucking _looked_ for Thomas at the bar before coming up to his room. Bastian closed the door behind him with care, holding his breath, not daring to make a sound. The latch closed with a muted _click_ , but if the noise wasn't noticeable, the sudden spillage of light from the hallway would be enough to tip Manuel and Thomas off to his arrival, no matter how distracted they were.

"Basti?" came Thomas' voice, inquiring but not terribly concerned. "Please tell me that's you."

Bastian felt his cheeks start to redden, and he had to fight hard to not gulp. He'd suspected for a while that Thomas and Manuel were in a relationship, and now it appeared that they were fucking, at the very least. A little part of him died inside, because he'd hoped it wasn't true. He'd been wanting Thomas for years, and wanted Manuel for just a little less longer than that.

And not only were they together, but they were together in _his_ room. They could have inconvenienced Jérôme, Thomas' roommate; instead, they were here. That stung, just a little.

"It's me," he replied, doing his best to keep emotion and nerve out of his voice. "I didn't mean to intrude. Can I have the key to your room, Thomas? I'll tell Jérôme you're okay, so he doesn't go looking for you."

Nobody said anything for several moments. Bastian waited, and did his best to bury his emotions as erotic images of Manuel and Thomas flooded into his head. If he'd known they were together, he could have arranged for the two of them to share a room and avoided this situation entirely, and maybe continued to go on naively believing that he might have a chance with one of them, some day.

He wondered how long it would take him to get used to the idea that neither of them could be his.

"Sure, if you really want it," Thomas said, finally. "But you could stay, too." There was a pause, before he added, "and do more than watch, if you want."

Bastian blinked. More images came to mind, but in these images, it wasn't Thomas and Manuel; it was the three of them, together. A vivid one leapt ahead of all of the others, and he saw himself sandwiched between them. He was inside Manuel, staring into his deep blue eyes, and Thomas was on top of him, fucking him, placing gentle kisses on the back of his shoulders and along his spine, and it was good, so fucking _good_ , and he was close to –

He inhaled deeply and took a step back, away from the room at large. He had to grip the bathroom doorframe to keep his legs from folding beneath him.

"Wait," Bastian said. His voice was thick, as though stuck in his throat. "What?"

Thomas laughed, a sound so mirthful it rivaled a choir of angels. "Come out here, where we can see you."

Bastian paused to consider it, then chuckled. He shook his head. "You're both drunk. You're both drunk, and so am I, and this is just a really, really interesting dream."

"No, only Thomas is. And maybe you, but you make less sense when you're drunk, so probably not," came a slightly higher voice – Manuel's. "But we mean it. We don't want to talk to a voice coming from a wall. Even if it is yours."

Bastian swallowed, then slowly walked down the mini-hallway towards the beds. He'd seen both of them naked plenty of times – that was the nature of locker rooms – but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle seeing Thomas and Manuel together the way he had imagined himself with either one of them in his dreams. The sight might crush his fantasies to dust.

The soft light coming in from the window on the far side of the room was the only illumination, but it was enough for Bastian to see by. Thomas was lying on top of Manuel, chest-to-back, arms folded over Manuel's shoulders. He was resting his chin on the backs of his hands, the cheeky bastard, and looked perfectly content, like a particularly happy cat. Manuel didn't seem annoyed at being interrupted; instead, his expression was one of warmth. Both of them were looking at him, and especially with Manuel, it was an intense kind of stare, the kind that made you feel like you weren't being looked at, but looked _into_.

Bastian desperately hoped the bulge in his pants wasn't obvious.

"See? It is him," Thomas said, grinning.

"Who else would it be?" Bastian asked, an amused smile lifting the corners of his lips.

"I dunno," Manuel shrugged. "Room service, maybe. Or Fips. You sound like him sometimes."

Bastian snorted out a laugh. "I hope you're joking."

Manuel smiled at him, then winked. If Bastian's pants shrank another size because of that gesture, he did his best to control his reaction.

"We mean it," Thomas said. "You can stay, or you can go listen to Jérôme's monotonous symphony all night."

Bastian licked his lips, and god, he felt like his cheeks were glowing. He looked at Manuel and pointed at Thomas. "You're okay with this guy's plans?"

"It was my idea," Manuel said. He raised a suggestive eyebrow.

Bastian's throat went dry. Fuck, but he'd fantasized about this – well, maybe not this exactly. He'd been fantasizing about Thomas for years. There was a certain charisma that Thomas had that he carried everywhere, and it was infectious and beautiful and everything a person could ever want. For a while, he'd just basked in Thomas' kindness, like everyone else, putting off asking him out, because he hadn't wanted to ruin the wonderful feeling Thomas gave him by making their friendship something more.

Manuel had arrived from Schalke a few years later, and if he wasn't going to let himself have Thomas, he was going to ask Manuel out, instead. But he'd put that off, too, and then, one day, after a training that otherwise would have been like every other training, he'd watched as Thomas and Manuel hit it off, joking with each other and invading each other's personal bubbles on their way back to the locker room. It became clear, after that, that the two of them were meant for one another, and he'd considered himself out of the picture and resigned to fantasies and daydreams on long bus rides, as Thomas and Manuel sat next to each other two rows behind him, probably up to no good.

"I – " Bastian did his best to not shuffle his feet, but it was a near thing. He could hear the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. "You're serious?"

"You either strip, and get on the bed," Thomas said, "or you don't." He shrugged. "The choice is yours."

Bastian licked his lips – again, he realized – and failed to conceal the gesture. Fuck. He could get in bed with Thomas and Manuel, or he could leave. It wasn't as though it was a hard choice; in his head, he would strip in a heartbeat, but this was reality, not some idle daydream. The reality was that he was friends with both of them, and he didn't want to ruin that by having sex with them.

And of course, he was the captain too. But Manuel and Thomas were mature enough to leave their personal lives off the pitch; the fact that he'd just barely figured out that they were together was evidence enough of that – or of his own denial, he supposed. Both of them, especially Thomas, could be pranksters, but they never messed around with the personal lives of others. If they wanted to be discreet about this, it was possible.

Before he was really aware of what he was doing, Bastian undid the first button of his button-down shirt, and started working on the second.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas smiled, and the expression was distracting to Bastian, who watched as though entranced as Thomas got up. They never broke eye contact, even when Thomas had stopped in front of him and lifted both hands to his cheeks, cupping them affectionately.

"You sure?" Thomas whispered. "Because this is a dream come true for both of us. But I don't want you to feel pressured, either." Thomas leaned in close and gave Bastian a slow, lingering kiss, one that tasted strongly of ale.

The butterflies in Bastian's stomach were threatening to work their way into his throat, but he closed his eyes and shut them down, even as his knees wobbled beneath him, just a bit more than they had been a moment before. He pushed another button out of its hole as he whispered, breath strained with hope and passion and dreams, "Yes. I'm sure."

Thomas' lips curled into a smile against Bastian's lips. As he pulled away, his grin never faded.

"Keep him busy, Manu," he whispered. "I'll be right back."

Thomas' hands slid away from his cheeks, and then Thomas moved behind him. Bastian turned to watch him go, admiring Thomas' ass before he disappeared into the bathroom.

"He's beautiful, isn't he," Manuel said. Bastian turned, and watched as Manuel strode towards him slowly, as though purposely taking his time so that Bastian had a better chance to get a good look at him.

"He is," Bastian agreed, as he struggled to push another button through its hole. He tried to refrain from taking Manuel in, but as Manuel came closer, his resistance died swiftly. They were all well-built, but there was a largeness, a hardy strength, that Manuel's presence seemed to carry. He was tall and huge, and as he found out, the saying about people with big hands was true. His gaze settled south of Manuel's belly button and stayed there, and if his eyes went a little wide, he wasn't sure he could have helped it.

"Fuck," Bastian breathed, swallowing hard. He licked his lips, and – too late – lifted his gaze to Manuel's face, only to find that Manuel was smiling, and staring right at him. He felt his cheeks get redder.

"Distracted?" Manuel asked, closing the distance between them.

"Not unpleasantly so," Bastian replied. The button he'd been working on slid out from under his thumb. He cursed under his breath as he tried to work it again.

"Let me help you," Manuel said, taking Bastian's hands in his own, pushing them aside gently as he leaned in for a kiss. Bastian returned it, moaning into his mouth as he parted his lips slightly. Manuel's tongue slid into his mouth, and Bastian tasted the faint tinge of lager on his breath as their tongues met. He let Manuel undo the last few buttons of his shirt, too absorbed in the kiss to think much beyond need and _fuck_ and _want_.

Manuel undid the last button, then spread his shirt open, sweeping long fingers over his body. Bastian inhaled deeply and nearly shuddered, basking in the warmth of Manuel's touch.

"Mmm," Manuel moaned, breaking the kiss. Manuel took him in, hands sliding down his chest, fingertips splayed, moving slowly up his body to his nipples. Bastian's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Manuel for a brief moment, then took in Manuel himself. Manuel's fingertips rubbed circles against his nipples, and he couldn't help but glance downward beyond those hands.

"You want it, don't you?" Manuel's smile gained some mischief as he leaned in and kissed him, a smooth glide of lips against lips. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Want to see if you can take it all." He kissed Bastian again.

Someone might have whimpered at Manuel's words; Bastian refused to believe that person was him. He wrapped his arms around Manuel, pulling him forward until they were chest-to-chest, the bulge in his pants getting larger and more uncomfortable by the second.

"I've fantasized about you," Manuel confessed, breaking the kiss as he reached down between them. Manuel cupped his crotch, then squeezed.

Bastian moaned, and did his best to not fuck Manuel's hand.

"Wanted you to fuck me, wearing just the armband." Manuel pulled the zipper's fly down, and Bastian shuddered with relief, no longer constrained by his own clothing. "Or maybe you'd let me fuck you."

"Jesus," Bastian moaned. He grabbed the hem of his trousers and shoved them down as far as he could. "Fuck, Manu."

"When I let that goal in," Manuel continued, as he reached his hand down the front of Bastian's boxers, fingertips brushing over his cock and making sparks of sensation dance on his skin, "I fantasized that you might punish me. You'd bend me over the bench. Make me regret my mistake." He pushed the undergarment down. "Or maybe you'd want to take me on the pitch. Tie me to a goalpost."

"Doesn't sound like you'd mind being punished," Bastian whispered, his words a blur to his own ears. The mental images that Manuel painted were arousing as fuck; if he was more drunk, he'd be worried that he might actually go to the pitch and act on Manuel's words, right now. He kicked off his trousers with ease, but his boxers bunched around one knee, as if refusing to let go of him.

A foot brushed against his calf, then pushed his boxers all the way down to the floor. Soon after, Thomas' body pressed against his backside, radiating warmth. Thomas squeezed his shoulders, then kissed his neck. Bastian moaned loudly, and he let his eyes flutter closed.

"Manu loves it," Thomas said. "Though I hardly get the opportunity, since I'm rarely the captain."

"You could pretend," Bastian replied between rough, uneven breaths.

"Mmmm," Thomas hummed against his skin. "Not the same, though."

"You could borrow it for – _fuck_ ," Bastian moaned as he stretched his neck, tilting his head away from Thomas' lips. Thomas continued to kiss him, placing gentle pecks all along his neck and down his throat, reducing the words he'd had in mind to soft moans. He wondered who Thomas had bribed for the knowledge that his neck was sensitive.

"Want to mark you," Thomas said, his voice liquid and smooth, like melted honey. "Give you something to remember tonight by."

Bastian moaned, as Manuel's lips captured his own. Both him and Thomas were so warm, pressed against him, sharing their heat. Fuck, but he wanted both of them, needed both of them, _now_.

Bastian pulled away from Manuel slowly, and as he did, he covered Thomas' hands with his own. He moved them slowly, unwinding Thomas' arms from around him, then turned to face Thomas, who raised an eyebrow.

"Want to kiss you, too," Bastian said, before leaning in and kissing him. Thomas let out a surprised moan, but then returned the kiss, lips relaxing against his own. Where Manuel had tasted like recently-imbibed lager, Thomas' breath was mostly of mint, with only the barest reminder of ale beneath it. Bastian smiled against Thomas' lips as he reached up, sliding both hands over his cheeks, caressing them gently with his thumbs. Thomas' lips parted, and he slid his tongue past them as he pressed himself against Thomas, reaching one hand up to his head and wrapping his other arm around his body, pulling Thomas towards him until there was no space between them, cocks pressed against each other's stomachs. He dug his fingertips into Thomas' hair, enjoying the soft, thick curls. Thomas moaned, and something in Bastian tore; the sudden urge to shove Thomas against the wall and take him right here, right now, was all-consuming.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily. He looked at Thomas, stared into the depths of those green-grey eyes.

"Thomas," he pleaded. "Please." And he kissed Thomas again, as though doing so would elaborate the thoughts he couldn't piece together the words to ask for.

Thomas grinned against his lips, and then Thomas pulled away from the kiss. His voice was barely more than a breathless, aroused whisper. "Yes. Let's get you to bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And next: the big long chapter! Hueh hehehehe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I said this was only going to be one more chapter, I lied. It's actually going to be two more, after this one. Sorry about that.
> 
> Things will get heavier in the next chapter, mwee hee hee. Not as confident in this chapter as I was in the previous ones, but I wanted to get this posted today.
> 
> Enjoy. <3

Thomas never broke eye contact as he took Bastian's hand in his, then pulled him towards the bed. Thomas climbed over the edge, doing so gracefully, and Bastian followed, not daring to let go of Thomas for fear that the part of him that thought this was a bad idea would wake up and start screaming. He didn't release Thomas' hand until they were kneeling in the middle of the bed, and then he pulled Thomas in close, kissing him, silencing fear with lust. He explored Thomas with his hands, feeling every inch of Thomas' lean, compact body, memorizing him by touch. With one hand, he reached down, cupping Thomas' ass, feeling its shape in his hand before squeezing it. Thomas moaned into him, lips parting, sharing the sound, and the urge to take Thomas, to push him down against the bed, make him whimper his name over and _over_ , returned double.

When Bastian spoke, his voice was deeper, throatier.

"Do you fantasize about me?" he asked, as he slid a finger down between Thomas' asscheeks, curious to see where he could touch him that would make Thomas moan.

"Yes," Thomas whispered, inhaling sharply at the end of the word. He pushed down against Bastian's finger, as though trying to fuck himself against it. "All the time." He kissed Bastian, parting his lips before pulling away. "Wanted to tie you up. See how wild I can drive you before I let you come."

"Fuck," Bastian said, his voice hushed, as he kissed Thomas again, unable to get enough of him. "I had no idea." Thomas, the kinky type? Did Thomas tie Manuel up? He imagined Manuel tied to the bedposts, spread eagle on the bed, and Thomas kissing him everywhere, teasing him, slowly driving him insane with lust.

Thomas' lips parted, and Bastian slid his tongue between them, savoring the hint of beer on Thomas' own tongue. He trailed a fingertip up his spine before spreading his hands over the backs of his shoulders, then gripping them tightly, digging into them.

"Maybe play into your role as captain a little bit, too," Thomas said, taking a few deep breaths before kissing Bastian again. "An ultimate prank, maybe. A trap I make you fall into."

Bastian tried to focus on Thomas' words, but as his lips parted, Thomas' tongue slipped between them, and it was his turn to moan as Thomas pressed against him, grabbing his ass with both hands, then pulling him forward. A flash of pleasure rushed through him as their cocks met, pressed against their stomachs, and Bastian had to fight the urge to thrust against him.

"Describe it to me," he whispered hoarsely, clinging to the thought like a lifeboat in a sea of bliss that had nearly taken him under.

Thomas' lips curled into a smile. "Wouldn't want to spoil anything," he said, before giving him a brief kiss, "if I make it happen sometime in the future."

The bed sank behind Bastian. A moment later, Manuel's hands pressed against the backs of his thighs, then slowly moved up over his hips, kneading his muscles with gentle yet firm grasps.

"Corner you in the locker room, maybe, when no-one else is around," Manuel said, warm breath tickling the skin behind his left ear. "Then take you to one of the offices and bend you over the nearest available surface."

"Or push you against the wall," Thomas said before kissing him again, a slow, lingering glide of lips against lips. He squeezed Bastian's asscheeks before pulling on them. "I'm not picky."

"Fuck," Bastian said, barely audible, even to his own ears. "Jesus fuck. Fuck me already, just fuck me, I – "

The feeling of the bed shifting behind him was all the warning Bastian had gotten. He cried out suddenly, loudly, as Manuel's tongue pressed against his skin, right below his tailbone, sending explosions of sensation up his spine. His eyes fluttered closed as he clung to Thomas, fingertips digging into his back, as though to keep himself from flying apart.

"Oh jesus Manu," Bastian gasped. He spread his legs further, sinking onto the bed not entirely of his own volition. Manuel's hands moved, pressing against the outsides of his thighs, as though trying to keep him from melting into the bed. Bastian did his best, but he couldn't help but shift his hips downwards. Manuel obliged him, pressing his tongue more firmly against Bastian's skin, instantly turning his internal dialogue to an endless stream of _fuckfuckohfuckmanufuck_.

"Shit," Thomas' voice was quiet, almost distant. Bastian opened his eyes, to see Thomas staring at him, smiling, eyes gone wide, green-grey irises nearly gone beneath dilated pupils.

"Always wondered what you looked like during sex," Thomas elaborated. He kissed Bastian, a slow, sensual kiss, one that was slowly consuming him whole. Bastian was overcome with lust, breaking and renewing the kiss quickly, but Thomas resisted him, slowing him down, and as frustrating as that was, it stoked the fire in his gut even more.

Manuel pressed against him – all of him, like a wall of warmth behind him – and kissed his neck, just below his earlobe. Bastian whimpered against Thomas' lips as he bucked against him, fingertips digging into Thomas' back as Manuel's lips closed around his earlobe. Manuel bit gently, and Bastian would have hit the ceiling if he wasn't between them, pleasure rushing through him like high-voltage current. Manuel released his earlobe, and Bastian broke the kiss to let out another cry of bliss.

"Fuck," Bastian said, his voice barely more than a squeak. "Oh fuck. Fuck, please. Fuck me. Fuck me now."

Thomas smirked as he kissed his way down Bastian's body, down the center of his chest and past his navel. Bastian watched, and even _he_ knew that his eyes had gone slightly wide as Thomas kissed the inside of his thigh, tantalizingly close to his cock. He bit his lip and thrust forward, a silent plea for release.

"Manu." Thomas was breathing heavily as he looked up at Bastian, smiling wickedly. "Get the lube."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I apologize for this being so late. >.>
> 
> But yay, finally something explicit! /o/

Bastian was only vaguely aware that Manuel had left the bed to find the lubricant; his full attention was on Thomas, who was dragging his tongue along the length of his cock. He moaned as he watched Thomas intently, silently begging him to do more, but Thomas' hands pressed against the front of his hips, preventing any movement towards Thomas' mouth, warm and wet around him.

"Oh _fuck_ ," Bastian moaned. He grappled for purchase in the sheets, tugging at the soft fabric, curling his fingers into it.

"Mmm," Thomas hummed as he pulled away, a string of saliva hanging between his lips and the tip of Bastian's cock. He pressed a slippery kiss into the inner side of Bastian's left thigh. "If you're going to come, you need to let me know, okay?" Thomas looked up at him, eyes huge and shimmering with delight. "It would be bad if we blew your mind now, before we really have the chance to get to know one another."

"Yeah," Bastian said, nodding. He sank onto his calves, as though his own body was too heavy for him, but on the way down, he couldn't help but shove his hips against Thomas' hands. Thomas smiled up at him, then took his cock into his mouth again.

Bastian cried out as Thomas engulfed him – most of him, fuck, nearly _all_ of him – before pulling back. Thomas sucked gently at first, but it was enough of a pull to make Bastian feel as though he was being drawn in, and fuck, but he wanted to sink his fingers into Thomas' hair and fuck his mouth until he came, it felt that good. He moaned again, could feel his toes curling against his ass, as Thomas sucked harder.

Manuel came into view on his right, a tube of lubricant in one hand. He squeezed a generous amount of the clear gel onto his fingertips, then rubbed the substance between them. Their gazes met, and Manuel winked at him.

Bastian felt a knot of excited tension in his stomach, even as Thomas' tongue flicked over the tip of his cock, right under the ridge, sending a surge of pleasure up his spine. He eyed Manuel inquisitively, but silenced the question that bubbled up inside him and simply watched, waiting for Manuel to make his move.

Manuel smirked at him, then climbed onto the bed behind Thomas. He moved the pillows to the side, then used the heels of both hands to spread Thomas' asscheeks. Thomas moaned, and Manuel kissed Thomas in the same place Manuel had licked Bastian's tailbone earlier.

"Oh fuck." Bastian's voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper. Manuel rubbed his fingers together several more times, and then he pressed one against Thomas' opening, tracing lightly over the ring of muscle before pushing inside.

Thomas moaned around Bastian's cock, a sensation he wasn't ready for. He gasped, and let his eyes flutter closed briefly, gripping the sheets a little tighter, folding the fabric against his palms.

"Fuck, Manu," he said as he opened his eyes and watched as Manuel finger-fucked Thomas, pushing his finger in all the way to the knuckle, then pulling out again, slowly at first, but gradually increasing in pace before slowing down. Thomas wriggled between them, sucking his cock and pushing himself back onto Manuel's finger. Manuel withdrew his finger briefly to re-lube it, then pushed it into Thomas again, the sound of their contact more obscene, more arousing than it had been before.

"Jesus, Thomas," Bastian moaned. "You're so hot right now." He clawed at the sheets as Manuel inserted a second finger, and Bastian watched, transfixed, wishing it was Manuel who was finger-fucking _him_.

Thomas moaned, then slid his tongue beneath his foreskin, and fuck, Bastian thought he was seeing stars. He cried out, bliss clouding his thoughts as Thomas found a rhythm between him and Manuel, but where Manuel could easily match Thomas' movements, Thomas' hands prevented him from doing the same.

It wasn't long before Manuel was inserting a third finger. Thomas moaned around his cock, taking almost all of it; Bastian doubted that Thomas would have trouble taking all of him, given the chance. He wasn't sure when his breathing had turned into ragged gasps, but he knew he was close. He sank his fingers into Thomas' curls, and as much as he wanted to do exactly what almost every porno did at this point, he pulled Thomas away from him and off his cock.

"Need to be inside you," Bastian breathed as he looked down. His cock glistened with Thomas' saliva, and he had to look away, hints of the warmth of Thomas' mouth still lingering on his skin. Instead, he looked at Manuel, who withdrew his fingers before flashing him a wicked smile. Manuel reached down and tossed a pillow his way, and Bastian had barely enough non-blissed mental capacity to catch it. Manuel got up off the bed, then leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"He's yours," Manuel said, barely-concealed mischief in his tone.

Thomas was kneeling in front of him, making Thomas taller for the moment. Bastian turned to look at Manuel, who winked at him as he used a cloth wipe to clean the lubricant from his fingertips.

And then he understood. He looked back at Thomas and smiled.

"Let me put this behind you," Bastian said as he rose to his knees again, then leaned over Thomas, kissing him slowly, lovingly. Thomas' hips nudged his own, and he reached behind them, placing the pillow just behind Thomas' feet. Then, he pressed his hands against Thomas' chest, and he felt Thomas' legs slide out from under them as they fell forward, pushing Thomas into the mattress. He found Thomas' foot with his own and curled his toes around the side.

"Fuck, Thomas," Bastian moaned. "Going to fuck you hard."

Thomas made a keening noise beneath him, and it was all the motivation he needed. He stared into Thomas' deep, green-grey eyes as he lifted Thomas' legs, pressing his body against the backs of Thomas' thighs, then pushed inside him.

He hadn't really known what to expect, but fuck, as tight as Thomas was, he slid in easily, almost too easily. His breath caught in his throat, and he pushed in more slowly, hands on Thomas' hips. Thomas' mouth was open in what he hoped was a silent cry of ecstasy, and fuck, he had never imagined that Thomas would look like this beneath him, cheeks flushed, eyes clouded over, so clearly _wanting_ him. He continued to push until his balls pressed against Thomas' ass, and when they did, Thomas let out a loud moan, eyes fluttering closed, and Bastian couldn't help but swallow it in his own mouth, kissing Thomas' lips, swollen and wet from their earlier contact. 

"You okay?" Bastian asked, breathing hard as he broke the kiss. He lifted a hand to card through Thomas' hair.

"Oh fuck." Thomas' voice was strained, barely more than a whisper. "Basti, fuckohfuck. Yes, I'm fine." He shoved his hips against Bastian's. "Please."

Bastian wanted to fuck Thomas senseless, but as though he had spoken the thought aloud, Manuel pressed his hands against Bastian's hips, stilling any movement he might have made.

"Not yet," Manuel said, warm breath ghosting over the shell of his ear, his warm body like a wall of heat against Bastian's back. "You're going to have to wait for me."

A gel-coated fingertip pressed against Bastian's opening, spreading the warmed gel over his skin, and then pushed inside him, in to the knuckle almost instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is probably only one chapter left, but I may write an epilogue of sorts. We shall see. /o/
> 
> 08/30/2015 UPDATE: I know you guys are anxiously awaiting the next chapter. I'm moving, though, and it's taking a huge emotional toll on me. I definitely want to finish this fic, but it may take another month or so. Bear with me, guys! I won't forget you.


	6. Chapter 6

Bastian cried out, eyes closing as he leaned into Thomas, burying his face against Thomas' shoulder, skin damp with sweat. Manuel pushed a finger all the way inside him, and he had to bite his lip to mute a second cry, stars exploding in his vision. He clutched the sheets to either side of Thomas' head, thumbs dragging across his shoulders, feeling Thomas beneath him, their bodies nearly pressed together with Manuel on top of him.

"Basti." Thomas' voice was soft, concerned. A hand began stroking his hair. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Bastian breathed. He opened his eyes. Thomas was looking right at him, eyes wide, and there was a lust-borne cloudiness to them that was dreamy, if not awe-struck. It looked good on Thomas.

"Relax," Manuel said gently, soothingly, into his ear. He kissed Bastian's neck. "Let me know if it doesn't stop hurting, okay?"

Bastian would have replied, but Manuel chose that moment to start fucking him with his finger, and any coherent thought Bastian might have had vanished in a fog. He breathed, telling himself to not clench, as Manuel withdrew briefly, only to push inside him again with two fingers instead of one.

"Oh fuck," Bastian breathed, struggling to keep his eyes on Thomas instead of closing them and letting bliss take him. He rolled his hips as much as he could, wanting to fuck Thomas, to drive himself inside him again and again as he met Manuel's thrusts. A strong hand squeezed his right hip, and he stilled with a quiet whine, a desperate plea for Manuel to hurry up.

"You're so beautiful when you're aroused," Manuel whispered against his ear. Manuel pressed a kiss to his neck, just below his earlobe, and it made Bastian's breath hitch, it felt so good. Every nerve of his body felt exposed, every touch a jolt of pleasure, as though all it would take to make him come was one more caress, one more kiss.

"Fuck me," Bastian begged, his voice higher-pitched than usual. "Please, Manu. Fuck me." He was still looking at Thomas, but his eyelids felt heavier, no longer able to stay fully open.

"I will," Manuel whispered. Bastian could have sworn he felt Manuel's grin.

Thomas kissed him gently on the lips, and it almost drowned him; were it not for Manuel's fingers inside him, he was certain he wouldn't have been able to hold back.

"Jesus, Bastian," Thomas said, as he pulled away. He smiled. "I wish I was the one fucking you tonight."

A mental image of exactly that fluttered across Bastian's thoughts, and it drew a moan from him as he kissed Thomas again. Fuck, Manuel's cock was going to be inside him, and he was going to be inside Thomas, and it was driving him insane that Manuel was taking his time, as arousal coiled inside him like a spring waiting to be sprung. He couldn't help it anymore; he thrust into Thomas, despite Manuel's grip, and the cry that Thomas let out was loud, and fuck, Bastian wanted to make Thomas cry out like that again.

Manuel tightened his grip, almost to bruising, and he thrust his fingers into Bastian with more force than before. Bastian cried out and relaxed immediately, as Manuel's lips pressed against the back of his shoulder.

"Maybe another time," Manuel said. He bit Bastian's skin gently, drawing a low-pitched whine from him, his skin tingling where Manuel's teeth had sunk in.

"Fuck, Thomas. Manu." He looked into Thomas' eyes, and he knew he was asking the wrong person, but he didn't care.

"Please," he pleaded, and he could feel the heat in his own cheeks as he said it, as he clutched Thomas' shoulders, trying to be mindful of his own strength so as not to bruise Thomas. "Fuck me."

Manuel kissed the back of his shoulder softly, almost delicately, then whispered, "Tell me to stop if it hurts."

Manuel's fingers withdrew from him a moment later, and then Manuel was pushing inside him. Bastian gasped as Manuel filled him, slowly, and god, Manuel was huge, and he'd been expecting a lot more pain, but he didn't feel any. All he felt was good, so fucking good, and fuck but he needed more, wanted so much more – 

"Hey." Manuel's voice cut into his thoughts. "Relax. Breathe. I won't be able to do this if you don't loosen up."

Bastian hadn't been aware he was holding his breath. He let it go and focused, letting his eyes flutter closed.

"Oh, Basti," Thomas said, drawing out his name with a sensual lick, "Oh. Oh fuck. Could come right now, just looking at you."

Bastian felt a second hand in his hair, and he let go, allowing himself to have what he had wanted for so long. He felt Manuel's lips on his neck a moment later, sparks of sensation dancing across his skin, and then Manuel moved again, slowly pushing deeper inside him.

"Oh fuck ohfuckohfuckohfuck _Manu_ ," Bastian whispered. He relaxed his grip on Thomas' shoulders, spreading his fingers out flat, needing something to hold but not wanting to hurt Thomas. Thomas took his hands and pulled them above their heads, as Manuel continued to push inside him – and oh god, fuck, but there was so much of him – until he felt Manuel's sack against his skin, and knew that Manuel was all the way inside him.

He clenched gently, because he could. Being able to feel all of that massive girth inside him was nearly enough to make him orgasm all by itself.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Thomas asked, the suggestion of a smirk in his tone. Bastian opened his eyes as much as he could muster the will to do so, and saw that Thomas was actually beaming at him.

"So… fuck," was all Bastian could manage.

Thomas chuckled quietly, a mischievous sound. "Don't worry. He'll move in a moment. And then you'll see stars."

"Jesus," Bastian moaned, and maybe some of Thomas' mischief carried into his actions, because he pulled out of Thomas, just a little, and pushed back in. The moan that Thomas let out was music to his ears.

"You're so tight, Basti," Manuel said, his words slightly slurred, as though he'd become drunk on lust. "Been wanting you for so long."

Something in Bastian tore free, as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt lighter, like he was floating, and yet, his mind as clouded with pleasure as it was, he was still skeptical of Manuel's words. He blinked, and when he spoke, the word was barely audible. "Really?"

"Yes," Thomas said. "Both of us."

Bastian laughed gently, then laughed again, harder, as he tried to understand that Thomas was speaking the truth. He was starting to feel light-headed. "You mean it."

Thomas grinned. "I do." He clenched around Bastian. "Now fuck me," he whispered, " _Hard_."

Bastian let out a moan, and any restraint he might have had vanished in a puff of vapor.

He started thrusting, slowly, wanting to draw every cry he could from Thomas, wanting to make him moan. He reached for Thomas' hips, and he held on to them, as though it was the only thing preventing him from flying apart. He moved, and as he did, Manuel found a rhythm with him, driving into him every time he pulled out of Thomas, a symphony of movement that never slipped, as though it was meant to be all along. The feeling of being in the middle – of being inside Thomas while Manuel was inside him – was beyond words. He did his best to take it slow, to make it last, but there was no break from the pleasure, no escape, and it consumed him whole. He wrapped his fingers around Thomas' cock and began stroking him, drawing moans of bliss from Thomas, broken words from harsh breaths. Manuel moaned with every thrust inside him, making him moan.

He was pretty sure he came first, a cry leaving his lips as he thrust into Thomas and stayed there, body going rigid with pleasure. Thomas arched beneath him, so beautifully, pushing into him as come spilled between his fingertips, onto Thomas' chest, white smears on pale skin. Manuel's grip on his hips tightened, almost to bruising, and then Manuel stilled, thrusting into him so hard that his whole body shook as Manuel came inside him.

Bastian breathed hard. His whole body was shaking. Eventually, he collapsed onto Thomas, resting his head over Thomas' shoulder. Manuel lay down on top of him, and he let out a whuff of air. Maybe it was best if they all turned onto their sides –

Which was apparently what Manuel had in mind. Manuel's arms wrapped around him, and he began to lean to one side. Bastian did the same for Thomas, and the three of them rolled together in one tangled heap.

After a few moments, Bastian felt a weight sinking back down on him. He swallowed, and shut the thought down, determined to let himself bask in the afterglow, just a little bit longer.

The thought that kept gnawing at him was the idea that maybe, just maybe, this was it. This was all he was ever going to feel with these two. There was no room in their relationship for him; they just invited him in for this, to fulfill a fantasy. Once he left this room, it was going to be over, and that was going to be it, and as much as he desperately wanted that to not be true, he couldn't help but feel his heart sink. No matter how much they had told him they had wanted him for a while, part of him didn't believe it, because that couldn't be true.

He closed his eyes and vowed to enjoy this moment. Without even really being aware of the move, he pulled Thomas as close to him as possible, while at the same time edging closer to Manuel. He was still inside Thomas, and he could still feel Manuel inside him, and he wanted it to stay that way.

Because when the moment broke, the magic of the night would be over.

"Basti." Bastian opened his eyes and looked at Thomas. There was an edge of concern to Thomas' voice, and he looked worried. "You okay?"

No, Bastian wanted to say, but he buried that thought as deep as he could.

"Yeah," he said. He smiled. "Yeah. I…" He laughed softly. "Thank you."

Thomas returned the smile. He reached a hand over to stroke Bastian's hair. "Who knew that interrupting us could be so fun?"

That made Bastian laugh harder, and it felt good. The fear that the night would eventually end ebbed away, just a little. "You want me to keep arranging our rooms so that I'm sharing with you or Manu? So we can keep doing this?" He meant it jokingly, but he could feel a heaviness to his words.

Thomas laughed. "No, I wouldn't mind at all. I'd love it, actually."

Bastian could feel his smile slipping. They hadn't been joking earlier? Fuck, but he didn't want to have this conversation right now.

"Basti," Thomas said, an almost dream-like quality to his tone. His hand settled on the side of Bastian's neck. "Oh, Basti. Been wanting this for years."

Bastian felt a hard lump form in his throat. He tried to swallow around it. "Really?"

"Yeah." And there was no joking in Thomas' tone or manner. "Even before Manu came to the club."

There was a quiet chuckle from behind him, before Manuel spoke. "And I, as soon as I got here. We meant what we said, Basti." There was a pause, then, "But we could have sworn you were with Fips. You've both been with the club for about the same time."

Bastian snorted. "Please tell me you two are the only ones who think that."

Thomas shrugged. "I don't know. I don't discuss who's with who among the club with everyone else."

Bastian understood that. Sure, they all talked about people outside the club, but rumors about each other could be fatal. It was the last thing a team needed.

"Well, I'm not," Bastian said.

Thomas smiled. "So you're available then."

Bastian could feel his cheeks reddening. "Yes?"

Thomas wrapped an arm around him. They were already chest-to-chest, but somehow, the gesture reassured him. "Basti… Manu and I have been together for two years."

Bastian could feel his cheeks redden more. He wondered how he'd not known about their relationship. "That's a long time. I had no idea."

Thomas looked at him seriously. "What we said about our fantasies about you is true. But it's more than that, too."

And just like that, a ray of hope shined into the hole that was about to form in Bastian's chest. He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"We love you, Basti," came Manuel's voice, from just behind his ear. A strong, large hand grasped his shoulder and gave him a reassuring rub. "Both of us consider you a friend, at the very least."

"If you want it to be more than that," Thomas continued, "We're open to that possibility."

Bastian could hear the blood pounding in his ears again. He tried to swallow, and failed. Was it everything he could possibly want? Maybe. But there was only one way to find out.

"Yeah," he said, and when he smiled this time, it was genuine. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Thomas smiled, then leaned in and kissed him, a slow, gentle kiss. Bastian returned it, and tightened his hold around Thomas.

Thomas released him and broke the kiss, and when he did, Bastian turned to Manuel. He sat up, and Manuel wrapped his arms around him. They shared a kiss, too, and as they did, he felt something inside him melt. Everything felt right in the world. He'd been holding back how he felt for so long, and now, maybe, he wouldn't have to hide anymore.

When Manuel broke the kiss, he felt something wet slide down his cheeks. A warm, gentle hand swept the wetness away.

"It's okay," Manuel said, pulling him close, wrapping strong, broad arms around him.

He felt Thomas press against his back, and then another pair of arms wrapped around him. Thomas kissed his neck, just above his collarbone. "We'll be here for you."

Bastian smiled and laughed. "I love you guys."

"We love you too," Thomas and Manuel said, only slightly out of sync with one another.

Bastian had no idea if a triad relationship could really work – someone was bound to feel left out, somewhere, somehow – but he wasn't going to let that fear be more powerful than how he felt for Thomas and Manuel.

They slept together that night, with Bastian in the middle, Thomas to his back, and Manuel in front of him, a comfortable tangle of limbs, their hearts beating as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be greatly appreciated. <3
> 
> (I'm sorry this took so long. Still settling into my apartment, but really wanted to get this done -- it's almost been a year since I first posted it.)


End file.
